xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' Kryssie Fortune: November 2015

Thursday, 26 November 2015

Five Facts Thursday - please welcome Angela Sargenti

Five facts about Angela Sargenti

1)  I graduated from Culinary Academy, and then went on to get a business degree.

2)  I've lived in 6 different states, some more than once

3)  I've been married to my best friend for over 20 years

4)  I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue.

5)  I often write from the POV of a male.


Bored and restless, Gwen refuses to marry her long-time beau, Earl. He endeavors to end her boredom by introducing her to something new - kink. In particular, domestic discipline, bondage, and spanking. He even buys her a paddle of her own, nicknamed Mr. Pink. When he puts her over his knee and spanks her with it, she takes a shine to her special new friend. Can Mr. Pink help persuade the reluctant Miss to become a happily-married Mrs., or will their relationship unravel?


It was the kind of dull, dusty day that drags on forever and kills you with boredom. I stood in my late parents’ kitchen frying pork chops in my mother’s old cast iron skillet. Everything was still and quiet, except for the sizzle of the pork chops and the sound of a couple of flies buzzing around by the sink.
I flipped the chops, and then I picked up the flyswatter. Suddenly, I turned, hearing my boyfriend’s ‘68 Nova coming up the road. I set the flyswatter down again and shut off the burner, taking the skillet off the heat. Out on the porch, I let the heavy wooden screen door slam shut behind me. With a hand on my hip and my thin cotton dress waving in the breeze, I waited for him at the top of the porch steps as he pulled up and parked in the gravel drive.
He hopped out of the driver’s seat and stopped to gaze at me, a huge grin on his face that made it hard to stay mad at him.
“Hey, Gwen.”
“I know you got a cold one waiting for me.”
I frowned and turned back to the house to go get him his beer.
Damned man. I knew he’d been out carousing the night before, had already heard of his exploits from my cousin Walter, who worked as a bouncer at the local bar.
“Heard some gossip about you,” I told him, handing him an icy-cold beer.
He pressed the can to his forehead to cool it off before popping the top. “All right.”
“I hear you’ve been chasing you some tail.”
I looked at him skeptically, but his eyes were wide and innocent. “You know something, Gwen? I ought to put you over my knee, listening to them wild tales.”
I felt my pulse race, like it always did when he said such things to me.
“Well?” he asked me. “You gonna invite me in?”
Shrugging, I stood aside. “I guess so.”
He sat down at the kitchen table and I made him a plate. When I sat down with my own, he started sawing into one of the chops. He popped a piece into his mouth and smiled. “Mmm, mmm. Darlin’, you’re the best cook I ever knew, apart from my mama.”
“Thanks, Earl.”
“You ain’t still mad? Mad I didn’t come by last night? Aw, damn, girl, you know my buddy was in town from the army.”
“Naw, it ain’t that,” I admitted. “It’s just... I kind of missed you, is all.”
He smiled, pushing his plate aside. “You know I love you, Gwen.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Don’t sound so convinced of it.”
When I didn’t say anything, he climbed to his feet, skirting the kitchen table to take me in his arms. I melted into his embrace and laid my head against his shoulder. Reaching around him, I slipped my hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I can’t hardly stand a night without you, Earl.”
“Is that right?” he asked, tipping my chin up so he could look me in the eyes. “Well, we’ll just have to rectify that, now won’t we, sugar?”
I shut my eyes, intoxicated by his words, by the tantalizing quality of his voice. I dropped my head but he gently grabbed my chin, demanding my attention. “When are you gonna wear my ring, Gwen?”
“Oh, Earl, would you quit?”
“No. I’ve been telling you for a long time now how I felt.”
I shrugged him off with a smirk. “What do you want with a girl like me, anyhow?”
“You better not say that no more. You’re talking about the woman I love.”
I glanced up at him. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, since he seemed sincere, and I was half-tempted to take him up on his offer, but the truth was, I was afraid to marry him, was afraid if I did, I’d be stuck in this crummy little hick town forever. “I’m sick of this place, Earl. Nothing ever happens here. I want to go somewhere, be somebody. I’ve been living in this shit-hole town my whole life and I’m just plain sick of it.”
“I know just what you mean, honey. This town can really wear on a person’s nerves after a while, but I’m telling you, Gwen, ain’t no place any better. You’d best stay here and marry me, and put all this searching for greener pastures behind you.”
“Easy for you to say. At least you’ve been out of this damn town a couple of times.”
“Yeah, but something always brings me back, and I think that something is you.”
He leaned down and kissed me. I swallowed hard, hungry for his touch. Something in my eyes must’ve tipped him off, and he tightened his embrace, crushing me against his chest. “Aw, hell, honey, I hope you ain’t got nothing to do for the next three or four hours.”
“What about dinner?”
“Yeah, after dinner.” He sat back down and attacked his plate again and I joined him, glad he was so easily distracted.


Blog - Friday I'm In Love:  http://www.angiesargenti.blogspot.com/

Sunday, 22 November 2015

Home Sweet Home, but not for long.

Scary stuff this.
I’ve never moved more than five miles from the house I grew up in. Our kids are grown and gone, and we have nothing to keep us in my hometown, so I’m off to live at the seaside. 

I thought you might like the estate agents tour to the house I’ve lived in for the last twenty-five years.

Perhaps my most special memory is the way my husband and son paved the back garden for me while I recovered from open heart surgery. 

I’ll be sorry to leave, but it’s a home for a growing family, and that’s exactly what it’s going to have again.  
Last weekend, a lovely young couple bought it.

So, here’s my much loved family home - with thanks to Purple Bricks estate agency for the descriptions and pictures. .

Set in this delightful cul-de-sac location this Three Bedroom Family Detached home sits on a generous plot with a good size rear garden and open plan front garden. Internally the property has a separate dining room located off the kitchen with the main living area located across the back of the property. To the first floor Three good size bedrooms and a bathroom with separate WC. The area itself is very much in demand with a local Asda supermarket located nearby with schools, shops and excellent bus services into Leeds and the surrounding areas. There are also good transport links to various locations and the motorway network for commuters.
Leaded light double glazed entrance door, dado rail, meter cupboard and frosted glazed door to the dining area.
11'8 x 10'5 radiator, access door to the stairs and first floor and landing, central heating timer controls and boxed-in floor mounted central heating boiler

10 x 7'10 Single drainer stainless steel sink unit with mixer tap, base level cupboards and drawers under with roll edge work surfaces. Wall cupboards above work surfaces. Plumbing for an automatic washing machine and dishwasher, gas cooker point and double glazed window to the front
19'2 x 12'5 Television point, two double radiators, under stairs storage cupboard, double glazed window to the rear and Upvc double glazed French doors to the rear garden

Access to Bedroom one, two and three and the bathroom/WC. Loft access with folding loft ladder.
12'7 x 8'11 Double glazed window to the rear, double radiator, fitted wardrobes with over bed storage cupboards and a storage cupboard.

10'6 x 10'1 Double glazed window to the rear and a radiator.

10'7x 6'10 double glazed window to the front and a radiator.

Comprises of a two piece suite with Panelled bath with shower over, wash hand basin, an airing cupboard and a radiator. The Separate WC is located next door to the bathroom.

An open plan laid to lawn garden with a driveway providing off street parking leading to a garage with up and over door
The rear garden offers an allotment area to the rear with flagstones and lawned area with mature flowers and shrubs aligning the borders with mature conifer trees. 

Thursday, 19 November 2015

Five Facts Thursday - please welcome Jessie Clever

Five Facts about When She Knows: 

  1. Shannon Wynter’s physical characteristics are based on my oldest niece. It sounds weird, but she’s in her twenties with two babies, and I looked at her and said, oh my, you have just the look of my latest heroine.
  2. The Franconia Notch School for Girls is entirely made up, but I was inspired to write a story about friends who met at a boarding school after working at one.
  3. I lived in Portland for four years while going through grad school, and I knew it was the perfect place for this story.
  4. Scoutie is based on a real dog.  I hope I did her justice!
  5. I had a hard time not picturing Clark Griswold when I wrote Shannon’s father.  It was not at all intentional I assure you.


His latest problem is her newest assignment.

Shannon Wynter has it all figured it. Abandoned by her mother and left to care for her agoraphobic father, Shannon focuses on building her career as a journalist to the detriment of all else including her love life.

Ian Darke has his own problems. Battling past failures, Ian sets his eyes on launching a new factory for his father’s defense firm. But it’s the very father he failed that will do anything to sabotage Ian’s progress.

And when Shannon follows an anonymous tip that leads her to Ian’s factory door, the last thing she expects to discover is what she already knows.


"But fraud for a defense contractor is serious.  You don't want to defend your reputation as a provider to our armed forces?"
It took him a minute to realize that clicking noise was her following him over the pavement.  He spun around, his arms coming up once more to gesture his acquiescence, only she was standing too close, and instead of gesturing with authority, he ran into her, his arms striking her shoulders and knocking her against him.
He froze, feeling the length of her body collide with his, the scent of her shampoo invade his senses, her breath fall across the exposed skin above his shirt collar.  He felt her hesitation, the hitch in her breath, before she shoved against him, pushing herself away.
"I'm very sorry," he said, his hands moving uselessly in front of him as if to help her regain her balance.
She stood with her pad held against her chest like some sort of shield, and he felt his anger drain into annoyance.
"I'm sorry," he repeated, much more carefully, "I don't have a comment, and I need to get back to work.  Please excuse me."
He turned slowly this time, resuming his walk to the loading dock door.
"What is it that you're using this factory for, Mr. Darke?"
He didn't answer.  No matter how much he wanted to turn around and rail about his stupid brother's stupid decisions, he did not.  He kept walking.
"Fraud, I mean, come on, that's-"
And then he did turn.
"If you want a comment, you can call our PR department."
"Great!" she said, and he almost smiled at her enthusiasm as she pulled up a clean page of her notebook.  "What's the phone number?"
He shook his head at her and let his feet carry him back to where she stood on the pavement, notebook poised for the phone number.
"Shannon, was it?" he said when he was close.
He had felt her breath hitch when she had bumped into him, and now he dared to step a little closer than politeness would have dictated.  He saw it again, the slight hitch in her chest, and he felt a smile spread over his face.  He leaned in, dropping his voice to a soft, rich level.
"Have you heard of the Internet, Shannon?"
"Yes," she whispered softly, her eyes locked on his.
"Use it," he said and walked away, leaving her standing in the parking lot, her pen completely still.

Goodreads Link:

Buy links:

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1SWp4R9
All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/1IHyZsj

About the Author:

In the second grade, Jessie began a story about a duck and a lost ring.  Two harrowing pages of wide ruled notebook paper later, the ring was found.  And Jessie has been writing ever since.

Armed with the firm belief that women in the Regency era could be truly awesome heroines, Jessie began telling their stories in her Spy Series, a thrilling ride in historical espionage that showcases human faults and triumphs and most importantly, love.

Jessie makes her home in the great state of New Hampshire where she lives with her husband and two very opinionated Basset Hounds.  For more, visit her website at jessieclever.com.

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Thursday, 12 November 2015

Five Facts Thursday - please welcome Patricia MacLayne

Fast Five Thursday – P.J. MacLayne

 1.  The highest point in Volusia County, Florida is the north cell in the Tomoka Farms landfill at 145 feet above sea level. Some people claim it doesn't count because it's artificial. I've been there.  (Well, close to it.)

2.   Medieval monks complained about their jobs in the margins of the manuscripts they were working on. Nowadays we complain about our jobs via email.

3.  I didn't touch my first computer until I was thirty, now I'm employed in I.T.

4.  I had five different jobs and twelve different offices while employed by the same organization. (And I had to clean most of those offices before they were up to my standards,)

5.  I won my first award for writing in the sixth grade.


Harmony Duprie enjoyed her well-ordered life in the quiet little town of Oak Grove—until her arrest for drug trafficking. Cleared of all charges, she wants nothing more than to return to the uneventful lifestyle of a historical researcher she once savored.

But when her beloved old car “George” is stolen and explodes into a ball of flames, it sets off a series of events that throws her plans into turmoil. Toss in a police detective that may or may not be interested in her, an attractive but mysterious stranger on her trail, and an ex-boyfriend doing time, and Harmony’s life freefalls into a downward spiral of chaos.

Now she has to use her research skills to figure out who is behind the sinister incidents plaguing her, and why. And she better take it seriously, like her life depends upon finding the right answers.

Because it might.


             “Harmony Duprie?” he asked, stopping his fist just before it made contact with my chest.
            Yeah, that’s my name. Obviously, my parents didn’t hang around many strip clubs before they came up with the moniker. I took a step backwards. “Yes?” I asked, wondering what I had done wrong now.
            “I’m Officer Felton. Do you own a,” he checked a slip of paper in his hand, “a 1979 blue Ford Pinto?”
            “George? Why yes I do, he’s parked out on the street.” The car was around the corner and I couldn’t see him, but I parked him the same place every time. The local police knew my car, so why was the officer asking about him?
            “Did you loan your car to anyone, Ms. Duprie?”
            “No.” I felt a tickle of worry at the base of my skull. “Why?”
            He sighed. “I have bad news. It appears your car was stolen.”
            I pushed past him, leaned over the railing and tried to see my parking spot. “Did you find him?”
            “George. My car. I call him George.” Because like the Abominable Snowman in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, that’s what I always wanted. My own little car.
            “Your car has been totaled, Ms. Duprie.”
            Stomach churning, I leaned against the door frame with a casualness I didn’t feel. “What happened?” Not that it would take much damage to total George, as old as he was.
            His radio beeped and his eyes took on intense stare of someone listening intently to a voice I couldn’t hear. He leaned down and spoke into the black box on his shoulder. “10-4. We’re on our way.”
He looked at me. “Detective Thomason would like to speak to you at the office.”
            Now it was my turn to sigh. Detective Fred Thomason and I are not the best of friends. I have tried to avoid him, with little luck, since the first time he handcuffed me.  “I seem to be minus a car,”

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Saturday, 7 November 2015

An Erotic Romance Author Talks About Fireworks.

“She felt as though a firework exploded through her blood.”
“Her orgasm hit like a Roman Candle.”
“Desire rocketed through her, heating her blood…”

Yeah, you get it. Every bad simile you can imagine about sex and the big O relies on fireworks. So, why fireworks? And what sparked our love affair with them?

Put briefly,  it was a Chinese thing. To celebrate the lunar New Year, they gathered bamboo and lit fires. The bamboo cracked, popped loudly, and burst. That popping became as associated with Chinese celebration as champagne is to European celebrations. Gradually, people believed the popping sound drove away evil spirits. Let’s face it, starting a new year without evil spirits has to be a good thing.

Someone must have thought, “the louder the better.”
 They discovered that potassium nitrate, carbon, and sulfur burned nosier and brighter. If the mixture was right, it could fire arrows or even cannonballs. Watch out, evil spirits, gunpowder’s gonna get you.

Gunpowder and fireworks spread around the world. Knights in armor became a thing of the past as their armor couldn’t stand against  gunpowder propelled projectiles. Of course people still used fireworks in their celebrations.

Here in the UK, we have Bonfire Night  on 5th November to celebrate the foiling of a 1605 attempt to blow up King James and put his catholic daughter Princess Elizabeth on the throne. As an aside, she later went off and married the King of Bohemia, but he only ruled for one season. Sometimes, she’s called the Winter Queen. Anyway, back to the plotters. Robert Catesby and more famously, Guy Fawkes, secreted 36 barrels of gunpowder beneath the House of Parliament. They failed when someone grassed them up. We burn effigies of Guy Fawkes on our bonfires—although this year in Edenbridge, they burned an effigy of Sepp Blatter, the ubiquitous head of FIFA. 

We still celebrate the New Year with fireworks, and this year I’ll be letting mine off on the stroke of midnight. A new year without evil spirits and all that.

So, back to those appalling synonyms and metaphors. Why fireworks. I suppose it’s because they’re both beautiful and explosive, just like a powerful orgasm.

Thursday, 5 November 2015

Five Facts Thursday - please welcome Adam Mann

Five facts about Adam Mann.

I live and work in a mountainous area in Vietnam.
I have had four wives.
I have seven children.
I have four grandchildren.
I know where angels come from:  Seven year old granddaughters.


His Third Wife:
Over 150 years ago, in fact in 1862, Mary Elizabeth Braddon published a book called Lady Audley’s Secret which went on the become a best seller at that time, and over the years the book has been serialized and films have been made based on this book.  The literary fashion in those days was accidental bigamy, and in the book the heroine deserts her child, pushes husband number one down a well, just for starters.
In Adam’s novella a man whose middle name is by coincidence Audley is happily married with three daughters, and in his travels he stays in various small quest houses.  Over years he is seduced by daughters in each house, and when each becomes pregnant he “marries” each of them.  The “scandal” does not become public until he loses his job, sues for unfair dismissal, and is awarded substantial damages.


"These Guest Houses never served dinner, so he walked along the road to a pub which served meals, and found Alicia’s other guests already there.  They asked Roger to join them, and they all laughed and chatted together.
“Alicia was kind in giving us her room,” said one, “so it just worked out.”
“She told us that she’s going to stay with a friend tonight,” said another, “but will be back for our breakfast in the morning,”
Roger was not really listening to this but he remembered later.
He walked back the house he was staying in, and opened the door.  Alicia was in the kitchen and offered to make him a cup of tea.
Roger sat down to enjoy the tea before going to his room.
“Good night,” he said as he stood and climbed the stairs to his room.
He dressed in his pyjamas, switched off the light and got into bed.  It was soft and warm and cozy, and for some reason smelled of Alicia.
About one hour later Alicia opened the door to his room and crept in to his bed.  She climbed in next to the sleeping Roger.  She wasn’t wearing too much, just a very short diaphanous nightie, and nothing else."